


The Sampler

by 4everTheValley



Category: The Big Valley
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 08:57:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4everTheValley/pseuds/4everTheValley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While sitting with her newborn granddaughter Victoria discovers an item that puts to rest any fears she or Nick might have that Heath could leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sampler

Heath was about to pour a cup of coffee when he heard riders in the yard. Setting the pot on the table he stepped across the room and opened the door, not surprised to see Nick dismounting. He was, at first, surprised to see Victoria, quickly revising that thought when he considered his failure to show at the ranch this morning and his departure the previous evening.

_He and Nick had returned from the range as the full fury of the storm hit. Swirling winds and a cold, driving rain had both men drenched before they reached the house. Victoria’s entreatings for him to stay the night went for naught. The baby was due soon and he had to get home to Sarah. He’d ridden out—the storm doubling the normal 30-minute ride—stabled his horse and entered the house to discover his worries not unfounded._

About to admonish Nick to lower the volume, he glanced down into two baby-grey eyes, and realized it was too late.

“Hey, little one, this here’s yar Uncle Nick,” and so saying he handed the bundle to his startled brother, and headed back to see if the disturbance had woken his wife. Finding himself looking into two dark-brown eyes, he had his answer.

“Sorry about that. I couldn’t silence him quickly enough,” he chuckled. “How are you doing? Need anything? I’ve made coffee and was about to start on some breakfast.”

Looking around nervously, Sarah asked, “Where’s Leah?”

“Nick’s got her.” Seeing the alarm on her face, he gently placed his hands either side of her face, planted a kiss on her forehead and whispered in her ear, “There’s no safer place she could be.”

Seeing the smile return to her face, he inquired, “Are you ready for visitors? I’ll send him in,” and getting a nod headed for the outer room.

“Nick.” Flicking his head in the direction of the bedroom, he advised, “Mama wants her,” and turning to Victoria ignored the sputterings he heard.

“Coffee, mother?” Getting a nod, and seeing the twinkle in her eyes and barely suppressed smile, he poured her a cup and then sat down to his own. They both heard the retreating boot steps and ringing spurs.

Ten minutes later Nick emerged, slapped Heath on the back hard enough to loosen his teeth in their sockets, and announced, “Time ta go. We got work ta do.”

“Not t’day, Nick,” Heath quietly replied and met the hazel-eyed stare. The resulting silence, filled by several ticks of the clock, was soon followed by a nod and, “I’d expect nothing less—ya done good little brother,” flashing a full Nick smile as he headed toward the door. “I’ll send Audra ta fetch the doctor on her way ta the orphanage—just ta be sure all’s fine—and I expect you’ll be seeing her later today.”  
“Heath, why don’t you go sit with Sarah. I’ll fix up some breakfast and bring it in for both of you. Then I can meet that granddaughter of mine.” Accepting Victoria’s offer, he refilled his cup and disappeared into the bedroom.

*****************

The doctor having checked mother and child, assured them that all was indeed fine, congratulated Heath on his stellar job as midwife, and suggested they both get some much needed sleep, soon departed. A raised eyebrow from Victoria, as he headed for the door, had Heath quickly assuring her he would follow doctor’s orders—as soon as he took care of morning chores.

Later, the precious bundle nestled snug in her arms while both her parents slept, Victoria rocked and glanced around the small living area, thinking back on how this had come to be.

_Finally convincing Nick that he could work much more effectively with the new horses if there were no distractions, they reworked the corrals on a small piece of property they had just acquired. The little house that sat on the property served Heath well in those instances where they had a tight contract to fill, or a goodly number of new horses to be trained, and he spent all of his day with the horses. He could work from daylight to dusk and save the ride back and forth. And being who he was, unable to sit idle—or to accept disrepair—the little house began to change. Broken steps became a solid front porch; old, cracked glass morphed into solid new windows; a leaking roof was rendered rain-proof; scarred, discolored flooring gave way to a smooth, shiny surface; misaligned, squeaky cabinets and doors functioned as they were meant to; trim and a myriad of other seemingly inconsequential things transformed the appearance. And then Sarah came back into his life, and amid protests from all, not the least Nick, they chose to move into the little house._

Oh, Victoria understood Nick’s displeasure. It wasn’t about the house—it was about not having Heath, about feeling he’d somehow lost him . . . it was about missing him. As she sat now, studying the space, she wondered at their decision. Heath’s handiwork was readily apparent, and yet, the space was decidedly limited. True, Heath had added one room, to accommodate the indoor plumbing he thought Sarah deserved, but otherwise there were but two bedrooms—one very small—this cozy living space with the dining table at one end and small kitchen beyond. It wasn’t much—although Victoria warranted that the missions had not accustomed Sarah to luxury.

And yet . . . there was no denying they seemed happy here. Victoria had never arrived, invited or otherwise, and not heard laughing or singing coming from within. Oh she was sure they must have their moments, there had to be occasional spats—but there was no denying they were happy . . . and happy here.

Nick referred to it as the shack—Victoria preferred little house—and he ranted whenever opportunity presented itself trying to persuade Heath to move back into the big house. To no avail. In truth, she too wanted Heath . . . . What? Well, she wanted Heath home—and Sarah too. She had made it very clear that Sarah was welcome in this family—indeed, Sarah now was family. Oh yes, she wanted them both home!

Her eyes continuing to cast randomly about, her musing were suddenly suspended as it jumped out at her. There hanging openly on the wall—how had she not noticed it previously? It was framed, some kind of beautiful wood she didn’t recognize. She knew Heath had made the frame for she’d seen the same wood on the frame of their wedding photo—the one that sat on the mantle. His mother’s sampler. She’d first seen it not long after he’d come to them.

_The door was ajar and she’d knocked and stepped into his room to deliver clean laundry. She’d need to talk to him about that—he had far too few clothes and those he had were well worn. Not sure this was the time to address that she had made small talk as he’d thanked her and began putting them away. Opening one drawer, he’d tentatively removed the sampler asking her if she thought it would be okay stored in the drawer. He confided that his mother told him she’d finished it shortly before he was born and pinned it to the wall of the tent, and later to the wall of their cabin. It was one of the few things he’d taken when she died. Victoria had suggested it would be kept best if mounted and framed behind glass, but for now it should be safe as was._

She never saw it again . . . and now it hung on the wall in this house, proclaiming to all: Our Home is Built on a Foundation of Love. He had brought it out, framed it, and hung it here. Here! Somehow, she conjectured, this small house must have reproduced for Heath what he had experienced in his Mama’s house.

And then, in a flash, it hit her. It wasn’t the house, it was what was in it. This house was filled with love—Heath’s for Sarah, hers for him—it reflected off every restored surface, spread into every crevice, and planted itself into the hearts of those within. He felt comfortable here, he felt he belonged, and he felt safe. It felt like home . . . in a way the big house never had. Not sure if there was anything she, or Nick, could do to rectify that, she, of a sudden, realized it mattered not.

Since Heath had come to them, all she’d ever wanted was for him to feel contented, accepted, and happy. Especially she had wanted assurance that he was staying. And there it was—hanging in front of her for how long she didn’t know—visible proof. She’d have to help Nick understand that Heath was not lost . . . he was secured. He was planted firmly on Barkley soil, settled and happy. Heath was home.


End file.
